


Call the Shots

by khalisey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Implications of Public Sex, Masturbation, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16193963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khalisey/pseuds/khalisey
Summary: While away on a case, Dean’s alone and horny in his motel room so he decides to send you a few sexts to help get you in the mood. Only problem is: you’re at work and his messages are helping a littletoowell.





	Call the Shots

The familiar buzz of your phone vibrates in your back pocket, the sensation causing your belly to knot in anticipation as you only need one guess to figure out who’s texting you. Hastily, you place the tray you’re holding down onto the bar rushing to empty the glasses from it before pulling out your phone and smirk at the small block of sinful text glaring back at you.

_“Wanna sink into that warm little snatch of yours so bad x”_

After being pulled away on a hunt last minute, Dean had been texting you all evening in the hopes you’d drop your late shift at the club you work in to join him at his motel despite the fact he was almost half a state away. And as much as the throbbing in your cunt made you giddy, you desperately needed the money considering you were the one in the relationship making honest cash. Dean would just have to wait to nail you when he got home. 

Hurrying a reply before your boss clocks you slacking, you type out your response:  _“It’s only two days baby. And then you can sink inside me as many times as you want x”_

You’re about to pocket your phone when another text comes through. He’s eager. And horny. A deadly combination.

_“Like you have a choice. Gonna tear that pussy in half by the time I’m done with you x”_

Your stomach tightens in a way that causes your whole body to scorch beneath your uniform and the aching between your legs becomes almost unbearable. You’re not going to last the night if Dean keeps up with these messages. Another one pings in your palm. 

_“You’re wet just thinking about it aren’t you? My big thick cock fucking you wide open? x”_

_“Maybe x”_ You rush to answer after hearing the voice of your boss looming over your shoulder. Before you have chance to slip it back into your pants, a sentence flashes across your screen turning your cheeks crimson.

_“If I can’t touch you then you’re gonna have to do it for me... x”_

* * *

More exchanges pass between the two of you as the night goes on; each one progressively kinkier than the last and the excited tingle in your chest keeps your adrenaline pumping, knowing what naughtiness lay in your back pocket as you carry on serving drinks all the while anticipating the next slew of filth to arrive from Dean.

It’s just struck 1 am when you decide to take a short break, slipping to the staff restrooms for a moment of peace. The bar was stiflingly hot and the bass of the music was starting to vibrate to the very place inside you that was already pulsing without throwing a deep thrumming into the mix. Daring a glance at your phone, your notifications are filled with nothing but texts from Dean; every one making your pussy flutter the further you scrolled.

_“God I just wanna pump you full of cum and watch it dribble out of you before I make you lick it off my fingers x”_

_“I’d give anything to be buried between your thighs sucking on your clit till you’re begging me to stop. Fuck, my mouth’s watering just thinking about it x”_

_“Just thinking about you face down and your ass up, taking every inch of me and screaming my fucking name while I ruin your tight little cunt x”_

_“I suggest you go take a break and get yourself off like the slut I know you are x”_

The last text sitting at the bottom is an image accompanied by some few words. You open it, your eyes instantly widening at the sight of Dean’s magnificently thick cock, one of his hands wrapped loosely around the shaft.  _“This is all yours if you’re a good girl x”_

Biting your lip, you imagine it choking you and a small whimper rasps out from your throat. Fuck. He’s just upped his game. He knows you too well; knows you can’t resist the sight of his dick and your carnal need to have it fill you at any chance you get.

It’s no use. You’ll never make it home with this heat pooling in your underwear let alone finish your shift. Sliding back into a cubicle you perch on the toilet seat and open your legs wide, sneakily slipping a hand into your pants and down between your thighs. With your other hand, you point the camera down and take a photo before quickly write out a message to Dean and hit send.

_“Is this what good girls do? x”_  

You start to rub delicately at your bead, imagining it’s Dean’s tongue. Fingers melting into your wetness, you stifle a mewl between your lips as your peak races closer the harder you strum. Your phone buzzes on the floor where your dropped it in your haste to come but you ignore it, now desperately chasing your high. 

It comes fast and hard, juices spurting over your fingers thickly as Dean’s name breathlessly rolls over your tongue. As it subsides, you slump against the wall behind you and a subtle noise from the cubicle next door startles you. The warmth enveloping you freezes to a shameful chill as you sense the person moving. Their door squeaks open and you hold your breath even though you know it’s too late. They would have heard absolutely everything. Heavy footsteps clunk against the tile flooring while they exit before the sound peters out as they stop outside the stall you’re in and a small knock on the wood makes your body shudder where you sit.

Your phone lights up at your feet and you reach down for it, Dean’s name flashing across the screen probably wanting to hear you whimper down the line to him but little did he know that he was too late. 

“Dean?” You answer, whispering quietly as you possibly can, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself even though that in itself is now futile.

“You gonna let me in or have I gotta break the fucking door down?” Dean’s voice bellows around the room at the same time you hear it echoing down the phone, confusion hitting while you stand slowly and unclasp the lock. The door swings open, Dean’s frame filling the narrow entrance before he steps in with one large stride and knocks your phone out of your hand.

“What are you doing here—”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t give a fuck about the answer to sweetheart,” He spins you round quickly, bending you at the waist as his hands expertly work your pants down to your knees. As fast as Dean enters the tiny stall, he’s urging himself inside you, thrusting with such ferocity it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his tip nudges your cervix.

“Told ya you’d get it if you were a good girl.”


End file.
